Читать книгу Almost Dead - Блейк Пирс - Страница 11
CHAPTER NINE
ОглавлениеCassie dropped the phone. Rather, it fell from her hand and clattered onto the desk. She didn’t even notice. She was paralyzed by the brutal shock of the words.
The boutique owner had just told her Jacqui was dead.
She’d said the words with harsh, bald certainty. No room for doubt or misunderstanding, no details or explanation. Just the cold hard facts, followed by a swift disconnection.
Cassie felt sobs rising inside her, so deep and visceral that she was fearful of letting them out, because she knew her grief and guilt and self-blame could not be stopped.
Her sister was no longer alive.
What had happened? Confusion filled her as she remembered that she’d been alive just a few weeks ago. Both Tim, the friendly barman, and the hostel owner in Bellagio had confirmed it.
Had she been sick, suffering from a deadly disease? Or had her death been accidental, a swift, unavoidable tragedy; her body mangled in a road wreck or suffocated in a gas leak or caught up in a mugging or robbery?
Cassie clutched her forehead. Her temples were throbbing with stress. She’d been so close. She’d come within a hair’s breadth of finding her sister, only to discover that she was gone forever.
“Oh, Jacqui,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I tried; I really did.”
As the shock of the words sunk in, grief followed, and Cassie found herself wailing uncontrollably.
She buried her head in her hands, and for a while, all she could do was endure the pain as she cried. The loss seemed unbearable. The agony of it was as sharp as a knife wound. The woman’s words had opened up raw edges of grief inside her that she feared would never be able to heal.
It seemed like a long while later that Cassie raised her head again. She felt weak and drained, and for now, she had no more tears to cry.
She went to the bathroom, splashed water on her face, and rubbed her eyes. Looking at her swollen-eyed reflection, she realized she had moved past the stage of shocked acceptance. Now, her mind was filled with questions.
How recent was the death? Was there a funeral, had Jacqui been buried? Who had taken charge during this tragic event?
Another important question—why had Mirabella slammed the phone down on her after delivering that devastating news? Why hadn’t she stayed on the line and talked to Cassie, and explained what had happened? After all, Cassie had introduced herself as Jacqui’s sister. Mirabella had known she was speaking to family.
Now that Cassie had started thinking more clearly, she couldn’t come up with a valid reason for Mirabella’s behavior. It was irrational, confusing, and had been extremely cruel, too.
With a surge of fright, Cassie wondered if she’d misremembered the conversation.
What if the woman had actually explained what had happened to her sister, and in the stress of the moment, Cassie had suffered from a memory blank and had forgotten what had been said?
That made sweat spring out on her palms, because she knew it was possible, it had happened to her before, and it was usually triggered by extreme stress.
The kind of stress that a person might feel when told their sister had died.
There was only one way to find out. She would have to call Mirabella again and ask for more details on her sister’s death.
She picked up the phone again, feeling sick with dread, and dialed the number.
To her confusion, Mirabella did not answer the call. It didn’t even go through to voicemail, but just rang and rang.
She ended the call, wondering if there had been a faulty connection. While she redialed, she tried her best to gather her thoughts.
She wasn’t going mad. She was sure she hadn’t misremembered the conversation. And she was convinced that her sister couldn’t be dead. Not in such a short timeframe, when she’d been alive and well so recently.
Perhaps Mirabella was sick of people asking for Jacqui, perhaps Jacqui had a persistent ex-boyfriend who was driving everyone nuts, or maybe she’d left the boutique on bad terms, and in a fit of temper Mirabella had decided to say that dreadful thing.
This gave Cassie a glimmer of hope, but the only problem was that she couldn’t confirm it. Yet again, the phone rang unanswered, and then the click and scrape of the front door opening told her that the children were home.
After her lonely morning, and the shocking discovery she’d had to deal with, she was glad to see Nina and Venetia. She was grateful for their company, which provided a distraction from her frantic thoughts.
“Did you have a good day at school?” she asked.
They looked as neat and trim as they had when walking out the door. Cassie had vague memories of her own school days, where she’d arrived home in a state of disarray, having lost her hair tie or broken her bag or mislaid her jacket.
“My day was good, thank you,” Nina said politely.
Venetia was more talkative.
“I did a math test and came first in my class,” she said, and that prompted Nina to speak again.
“We have a spelling competition tomorrow. I’m looking forward to it, because our team won the last one.”
“Well done for your math test, Venetia, and Nina, I’m sure your team will do well. I can help you practice later if you like. Now, have you both had lunch?”
“Yes, we have,” Nina replied.
“Then why don’t you change out of your school uniforms. And then, shall we find a fun activity to do for a while, before it gets dark?”
The girls exchanged glances. It was something Cassie realized they did often, as if they needed to check in with each other before saying yes.
“All right,” Nina said.
As the girls filed obediently upstairs to get changed, Cassie felt perplexed by their overly formal behavior. She had expected that by now they would have relaxed into their normal personalities. It was as if the girls were constantly keeping her at arm’s length, and she was worried that they might resent her presence, although she didn’t know why.
This also made it difficult to interact with them; it was as if they were two small, perfectly obedient robots. The only real conversation they had offered so far was to talk about schoolwork.
There was only one person who could change the situation, and that was her. No doubt these children were not used to being looked after by ordinary people, who weren’t highly intelligent specialists or business leaders, but she could only be who she was.
The thought of helping them with homework crossed her mind, but homework was a boring task, and in any case the girls seemed to prefer to do their chores independently and without help.
How about playing a proper game with them, Cassie thought. That was what seemed to be missing in their overly serious, high-powered lives. Brilliant and destined for success they might be, but they were still only eight and nine years old, and needed playtime.
Pleased by having thought of an activity that they would enjoy, where she could contribute her own energy and imagination, she headed upstairs to put on her jacket.
“It looks like it might rain soon, but it’s holding off for now, so shall we go and play in the garden?” she asked Nina.
Nina looked up at her politely.
“We don’t usually do that,” she said.
Cassie’s heart sank. These children were pushing her away.
Venetia appeared at Nina’s bedroom door.
“I would like to play,” she said.
Cassie saw that on the shelf above Nina’s bookcase, there were a few toys. They were too high up for the children to reach, but there was a beautiful doll which looked like an expensive collector’s item, rather than a toy, a puzzle in an unopened box, and a soft, colorful ball.
“Shall we go and play catch outside?” she suggested, reaching for the ball.
Again, the girls exchanged a glance, as if reaching a decision.
“We are not allowed to play with those toys,” Nina said.
In the frustration of the moment, Cassie almost lost her temper and screamed at the girls. She was emotionally shattered after the discovery of Jacqui’s death, and she was starting to feel that this stonewalling was a personal attack.
On the point of exploding, she managed to grab a final tattered thread of self-control.
“OK,” she said, injecting as much faux cheerfulness into her voice as she could muster. “You’re not allowed to play with those toys, but would you like to play a game anyway?”
“Yes.” Nina nodded, showing some enthusiasm for the first time, and Venetia jumped up and down, beaming with excitement.
Cassie was relieved she hadn’t snapped. Most probably they didn’t have anything against her personally, but were just shy, and extremely aware of their house rules.
“Are there other toys anywhere? Or else we could play a game without toys.”
“Let’s play without toys,” Nina said.
Cassie racked her brain for the best idea as they trooped downstairs. What would be most fun, and bring her and the children together?
“How about a game of tag?”
Cassie decided to keep it simple, as the clouds were looming, and she didn’t think they would have very long outside before it started to rain.
“What is tag?” Nina asked curiously.
Cassie had no idea of the Italian word, so she decided a quick explanation would work best.
“We can run anywhere in this garden. As far as the wall on that side and the flower bed all the way over there. I’ll start by being ‘it’ and will give you the count of five to get away.”
The children nodded. Venetia was looking excited, while Nina appeared puzzled but intrigued.
“OK, let’s go.” Cassie turned away from them and counted down dramatically.
“One, two, three, four, five!”
She spun round and gave chase.
Nina sprinted off, but Venetia was slower, seeming not to understand the game. As Cassie ran toward her she appeared to realize she was in trouble and backed away.
Cassie just had time to realize that she looked genuinely scared, before she lunged at her.
“Tag! Got you!”
Instead of the screams and laughter she had expected, Venetia flinched back and Cassie saw she was fighting tears.
She stopped, dismayed by the child’s unexpected reaction. None of her ideas seemed to be working out.
“Are you upset? Everyone gets to be ‘it.’ You just have to tag someone else now.”
When Venetia clamped her lips together and shook her head, Cassie had another thought.
“Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry. I think I tagged you harder than I meant to. Can I see?”
As she grasped Venetia’s hand, she noticed that the young girl’s nails were bitten down to the quick. She was wearing a pink, long-sleeved velveteen top, and Cassie pushed the soft fabric up her arm.
“I can see a mark. It looks as if it’s bruising already. I’m really sorry.”
Staring down at the faint purple-red welt on Venetia’s arm, Cassie felt filled with horror that the first thing she’d done was to cause injury.
“It’s starting to rain,” Nina said, as the misty drizzle turned into a chilly shower.
“Let’s go in and play another game,” Cassie said, desperate to make amends for her clumsiness. She hadn’t tagged Venetia that hard, but again, she had been expecting her to run and not just cringe fearfully away.
She was starting to think that under her well-schooled exterior, Venetia was a sensitive child, both physically and mentally.
“Have you played hide-and-seek before?” she asked the children when they were safely in the hallway, with the front door closed.
They both shook their heads, but they looked eager, rather than doubtful.
“Let me explain. You can hide anywhere in the house. Anywhere at all. I’m going to close my eyes and give you the count of fifty to find a hiding place and then I’m going to shout, ‘Coming, ready or not!’ When I find someone, it means the game is over and then that person gets to do the finding in the next game. Do you understand?”
Nina nodded. Venetia seemed to have recovered from her earlier trauma, and smiled excitedly.
“All right, I’m closing my eyes.” Cassie placed a hand over her eyes to show they were really closed. “And now I’m counting down.”
She finished her count and shouted, “Coming, ready or not!”
Pacing through the tiled house, Cassie said aloud, “I wonder where these girls are hiding. My goodness, they have hidden well. I can’t find them anywhere. Perhaps they’ve managed to make themselves invisible. I really thought I would have found Nina by now, after all, she’s taller.”
She checked under the dining room table and walked into the lounge. Her eye was immediately drawn to the large velvet ottoman at the far end. It was a brilliant hiding place and she was sure she’d find one of the children there.
Cassie paced toward it, drawing out the tension of the moment.
“I think I’m about to give up. These clever girls have hidden so well. But wait, there’s one last place I think I might look!”
She grasped the ottoman’s lid and opened it.
Inside, curled into the tiniest of balls, was Nina.
She uncurled herself, squealing with excitement, as Venetia jumped out from behind one of the elegant dark blue curtains.